Leaves of Change
by Lenore483
Summary: Eileen Prince after she left her husband. Based on a headcanon I once read regarding what really happened to Severus Snape's mother.
Written for:

 **Diagon Alley II Challenges:**

Bingo Prompt: Eileen Prince

Versatility Challenge: 100 Character - Eileen Prince

 **Mock round 4 for the QLFC** (We have a BYE this round, so our captain gave us a mock round to do if we wanted)

Chaser 3: Contentment

Season: Fall

Optional Prompts:

(Word) Solitude

(word) Simplicity

(Object) Book

* * *

Fall had always been Eileen Prince's favorite season.

Maybe it was the silence, which seemed to stretch over the landscape as people sought comfort from the cold, or the simplicity of a good book with a cup of tea by the fireplace while rain pattered on the window. Whatever it was, Eileen had always enjoyed fall with its vibrant colors, shifting winds and rain.

She was standing by the window in the library, looking out on the colors splattered across the landscape. The leaves of the forest rustled in the wind, and the still water of the lake started to ripple, shrouding the mirrored image of the forest that she had been looking at. Blue and orange mingled together on the surface of the water to form obscure patterns that reminded her off bruises on skin and, suddenly, she wasn't interested in staring outside any longer.

Memories of what she had escaped would always haunt her, of that she was sure, but there was always solace to be found in a good book.

With that thought, she turned around and walked back towards her desk, fingers brushing lightly against the backs of the books she passed.

Sunday mornings were wonderful; the solitude of the library pleased her.

She had just gotten the position as librarian. Her husband would never be able to get to her now. It had taken a lot of courage to get away, she was just sad she'd had to leave her son. Her heart clenched a little at the thought of being a bad mother, but it really came down to survival. One chance was all she got, she knew that, so she had taken it and run as fast as her legs could carry her.

What had compelled her to marry a Muggle all those years ago? Love? Had she read so many books her mind had been poisoned with romantic naivety? Or was she just a daft teenager that couldn't see the warning signs?

He had started out so sweet and perfect. She knew she had been lucky to find someone that could look past her greasy, black hair and hawk-like nose — he had been sure to remind her of that. It wasn't until they were married that he had started to raise his fist. The psychological hits had started long before that, but her confidence was shattered years before she had met him. After all, the biggest warning sign must have been his similarities to her dear old dad.

She reached her desk while the library was still empty so she didn't have to interact with anyone yet. For now, she could settle down with a good book and summon a House-Elf to get her some tea.

When she had escaped, one year ago today, she hadn't known what to do with her life. Her dreams had been a family, and they had been picture perfect, but it was a deceptive image and a lie. Outside of being a woman, she had no qualifications and skills.

It had been rough on her, realizing the world did not care about a woman without a man or a purpose. The shame of having left them, even if they were a Muggle and a half-blood, had driven her to change her name. Eileen Prince had become Irma Pince, an anagram for I am Prince.

She had been lucky to find a position open at Hogwarts, especially since she was assured her husband could never come here. The Muggle protection surrounding the castle was what had made her say yes before she had even heard the salary. For the promise of freedom, she would have sold her soul to the devil.

Instead of the devil, she was met with peers she respected and a boss she could admire. Her life had settled down to a pleasant routine: watch over the books she loved, have brief conversations with her co-workers at odd intervals, eat, and sleep. Outside of that, what did one really need out of life?

The book was open in her hands, but her eyes strayed to the window once more. The windows shook slightly as the wind started gaining momentum. The rattling of glass pushing against its loose metal sockets calmed her previous melancholy, but when it started howling, she clutched her scarf — a nervous habit she had started after she got the scar on her neck. The stares and attention she received because of it was something she had managed to avoid completely at Hogwarts.

The golden shimmer of light from the sun flitting through the window reminded her that she could have it worse. There had been days when she couldn't move to even open the curtains, her day shrouded in shadows, doubt, and self-loathing.

She jumped when someone walked into the library with loud steps echoing through the room. Ever the librarian, she immediately shushed him as her peaceful quiet was broken for the first time that day. She could go an entire day without talking to someone at times. Those days were her favorite, when the only dialogue was between the characters in her books or her internal debate with the author of what she was reading.

"Morning, Madame Pince."

"Morning," she returned.

The boy smiled at her for some reason and walked past her. A leaf fell off his shoulder — he must have just been outside — just as he passed, and skipped, twirled, and danced through the air before it landed on the open page of her book.

Even if she didn't remember his name, she always felt pleased to see him since he looked a lot like her son. Though, she couldn't know for sure what her son would look like when she saw him again.

One day, her son would walk these halls, and she would get to watch him grow while she stayed in her sanctuary. Maybe this place could be his safe haven to?

She wondered if he would recognize her, know her, love her.

A new name, a new identity, a new life.

All of it had been at the price of her relationship with her son.

She didn't even know what his favorite season was.

* * *

Authors Note:

 _Special thanks to my twin, Mal (Malhearst), for helping Beta this (and coming up with the title)_

Based on a headcanon I read long ago, that Madame Irma Pince must be Eileen Prince since Irma Pince spelled "I am Prince" and JKR loved anagrams. I have wanted to do something for it since I heard that headcanon, and finally got around to it.

Xx


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